The Night Prowler
by destinykeyblade
Summary: It was early in the morning when Chief Hewley and his best and brightest responded to the call - a murder had been committed, and it would be up to the Midgar Police Department to solve the crime. Simple. Except... This was no ordinary murder. Besides, things always got complicated when Sephiroth, Midgar's foremost private investigator, was involved. Detective AU, up for adoption.


Hey. Remember me? Yeah, I live. I know, it's a shock after all this time. I've learned recently that I am incredibly slow when it comes to writing anymore. Sorry about that.

So this was really just an idea I had one night after watching... glob, I don't even know what I watched, but it must have been some kind of detective movie - or that Star Trek The Next Generation episode where Picard was Dixon Hill, which could very well be, actually. Either way, it made me think of the FFVII cast in a detective-y setting, so I tried my hand at writing this. Unfortunately, I don't feel like I captured the right tone for a detective story, and I honestly don't think I'll ever be able to, so this is going up for adoption. If any of you are interested in taking over, let me know and I'll send you my character role list; EVERYBODY has a part in this thing, like, for real everybody, so yeah. Anyways, let's get on with the intro, shall we?

* * *

If it hadn't taken so much effort, he would have been amazed by how lazy and unprofessional he felt when he changed out of his uniform and dropped into his armchair on those rare, fantastic nights when he didn't have to stay up 'til dawn the next day straightening out the boys' shoddy paperwork. They hadn't even had any calls today, which was more than rare; it was unheard of, in this city, but he wasn't going to complain. He'd even had time to shower and make something real to eat instead of having takeout _again_ , and now he was getting to relax and watch a bit of that old sitcom about a small-town sheriff? He couldn't recall if he'd ever had a day this good since joining the force all those years ago, but, despite how badly he wanted to take advantage of it, he'd been running on caffeine alone for the past three days - at this point he was fairly certain his blood to coffee ratio was tipped firmly in coffee's favor - and it was taking its toll, pulling his eyelids down and his chin to his chest, where he almost gave in. Then he twitched, trying to wake up long enough to stumble out of the chair and to his bedroom before he fell asleep right there in the living room. More often that not, he did just that, and woke up cursing himself and the chair the next morning for all the aches and pains. Well not tonight, he thought determinedly, and even though he was quite literally asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, at least he wasn't in that blasted chair.

~.~.~

 _J-i-i-i-i-ing!_

He groaned when the loud jingling sound rang out through his quiet house, considering just pulling his pillow over his head and ignoring it, but after three more rings, he pushed himself out of bed and shuffled down the hall to answer the telephone. "Yes?" he asked bluntly, already knowing who was on the other end of the line.

"Chief Hewley?" asked the familiar nervous voice, as always, but at least he didn't have to verify his identity before Elena would tell him anything like he used to. "Sir, Unit 5 has radioed in a homicide in the lower town, Sector 4; they're requesting your presence on the scene along with whoever's not already out."

Angeal frowned. "I'm not the head of that department anymore, you all know that, right?"

"W-well," the girl stuttered, and he sighed internally. "Y-yes, we know, Chief Hewley, but you're still the Senior Officer as far as Homicide goes, and they're saying..." Elena's voice got so quiet he could scarcely hear her. "It's like nothing they've ever seen before."

"Alright," he conceded, pushing the nearby blinds apart with his left hand to peer out at the dark but lightening sky. "Radio back, tell them to cordon off the area, don't let anyone through. I'll be there by sun-up with Zack and Cloud, they're the only ones not working on anything right now."

"Yes, Sir," she replied, and he could hear her fiddling with the comm system in the background. "Please hurry." The line went dead, and Angeal scrubbed his hands down his face, groaning again. Then he gave a sigh and headed to his bedroom to change back into his uniform, detoured to the washroom and brushed his teeth quickly so no one else would die today, then swept back through the living room to grab his coat and sling it on as he stepped into his boots. Six minutes after the call, Angeal Hewley, Chief of Police in the city of Midgar, picked up his keys off the coffee table and left his warm, comforting home in upper Midgar's Sector 2 for the biting autumn wind and billowing clouds of smog outside.

~.~.~

Lieutenant Zackary Fair and their new rookie, Corporal Cloud Strife were already at the scene when Angeal arrived, along with a few of the patrol units who had come to help 5 take care of crowd control. With the sun having only just risen high enough to shed light to the lower town, glinting pale gold on the grimy buildings, you'd think there wouldn't be a problem, but Midgar's reputation as a city that never slept was come by honest, and a decent-sized group of civilians were chatting animatedly behind the barricades. The Chief turned up his collar as he stepped out of his car, hoping to shield his ears a bit from that wind, but all it accomplished was making the fabric wave in his face and _snap_ loudly when a gust came from the other direction; at least it wasn't trying to make off with his hat. He stopped on the curb where most of them were gathered, eyes raking over the a man whose face was far too pale. _First one to see anything, I'll wager,_ he thought, then turned to Zack, who gave him an inappropriate grin.

"Hey, Angeal!" he greeted cheerfully, earning him several strange, disgusted, and dirty looks from the assembled. Zack affected not to notice, and Angeal himself had long stopped caring. The Lieutenant was who he was, and being woken at 5 in the morning to investigate a murder never had and never would change him. "Zack," he obliged, giving him a nod, and directing another at Strife, who looked a bit green and was clearly trying to hide the fact by slinking progressively lower into his own trench coat. "Cloud."

"Sir," the young blonde said quietly, eyes cast downward to the cracked pavement.

"Either of you been in yet?" he asked without further ado, jutting his chin toward the building behind them, one of the older train stations in the lower town that had been left behind in favor of the newly commissioned, faster trains designed by the Department of Urban Development. The fact that the body was left here, a closed-up space no one ever looked at anymore, meant it was likely the killer didn't want it to be discovered, and he wondered what had drawn the patrol officer's eye.

"Nah, we were waitin' on you," Zack said in reply, nodding at said officer. "Richardson's the only one who did, and he still looks like he might pass out. Thought you oughta be here." He 'hmm'ed, but said nothing, merely gesturing to the structure, and the three of them headed for it until they heard a commotion from the direction of the barricades. Angeal glanced back - and smacked his palm against his forehead, grimacing when he saw the unmistakable figure in the black suit and coat walking straight for them, long strands of silver hair billowing artfully out behind him with every step, somehow unaffected by the force of the wind that had the rest of them looking harried. Even from this distance, Angeal could see the twinkle in those light green eyes, and muttered a curse.

"I really hate that man."

~.~.~

The brawny, black-haired man had only just caught sight of him and already he was looking stressed, which made him feel the slightest bit guilty as he continued on to the sidewalk where the Chief of Police stood with Zack and a smaller, unfamiliar figure. He had heard they'd gotten a new officer in the Homicide Department; that must be the one. Sephiroth had to admit, he'd expected someone taller, not this almost childlike blonde, but if he was here, he was worth something. It would be interesting to see what contributions he would make to the case.

"Angeal," he said smoothly when he reached them, pulling his right hand out of his coat pocket and offering it to his friend.

"Sephiroth," was the somewhat icy reply, but whatever the tone seemed to say, he knew that Angeal was actually glad to see him. "Go away. You know I can't let you in here." Really, underneath the well-acted anger, he was pleased.

Sephiroth kept these observations to himself today, though, rather than get the truth and often a headlock out of the older man as he usually took the time to. "I have clearance if I'm working a case, Angeal. You know that."

"Oh really? Who hired you to check this out?" came the demand, and he calmly took a photo out of his breast pocket to show the Chief. "The Lockhearts," he answered. "They contacted me four days ago about their daughter, Tifa, and I have reason to believe she may be the girl in that building." Angeal didn't speak, just sighed and handed him the photograph back, resuming his trek to the door. Sephiroth fell into step on his left, with Zack on his other side and the younger man trailing slightly behind them all. In but a moment, the yellow tape blocking off the entrance loomed before them, and Zack jumped forward to bend it out of their way, the foursome slipping easily into the abandoned train station and out of the wind.

The body was not as near the entrance as they had been led to believe, instead further back, near the ticket counter and turnstiles, but the smell reached them almost instantly. The blonde gagged quietly and pulled an arm up to shield his mouth and nose in a facsimile of Zack, who had already done so. Angeal and himself didn't bother, well accustomed to the smell of blood and death by this point. The big man waved them forward, and Sephiroth had to notice that he and his lieutenant were walking in front of the boy so that their bodies would block the sight of the victim. _His first case, then._ A light inhale brought the rotten stench rushing toward him, attacking his senses, and though it no longer bothered  him, he thought to himself that it was probably a bad idea to have that blonde boy here with them for this one. Subtly, he shifted to walk in front of him as well. This wasn't going to be pretty.

* * *

And that's really as far as I could get. I felt like I wanted to write this, but I just couldn't get into it, y'know? Again, if you're interested in taking over, drop me a line. Thanks for reading; I love you guys! Mwah!


End file.
